


A Hawkeye in a Pine Tree

by sariane



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Christmas, Flirting, Fluff, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-16
Updated: 2012-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-21 06:23:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/594481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sariane/pseuds/sariane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Phil help decorate the tower for Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hawkeye in a Pine Tree

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was the first in my [12 Days of Ficmas on tumblr](http://urbanko.tumblr.com/ficmas2012), which I'm posting until Christmas Day. Some of the others might make it up here eventually. Enjoy! :)

"A bit to the left --"

Clint groans and shifts the giant star over a little further on the treetop. The branch he’s perched on shakes a little.

“Come on, sir, I can’t hold it much longer,” he calls down below. Really, why did they have to decorate the biggest tree? Why can’t Stark have normal holiday decorations in his precious tower? Shouldn’t Stark have  _people_  for this?

“I’ve seen you hold back your bowstring for minutes straight,” Coulson shoots right back. Clint can’t look down or risk dropping the sparkly star, but he imagines him standing with his arms crossed, looking up at Clint with a small smile on his face. “You can decorate a Christmas tree. Twist it a little clockwise.”

“This thing could collapse and kill us,” Clint protests, but he secures the star and pulls back carefully, not even daring to sigh in relief when it stays in place. “I think we’ve had our fair share of dying, just between the two of us.”

“Perfect,” Coulson says,  _finally,_  and Clint risks a look down to grin at him. He pulls the roll of green duct tape from his arm and tapes the star into place, ignoring Coulson’s objections. “What are you doing, Barton? Do you know how tacky--?”

“I’ll cover it up with some branches or something,” Clint shrugs. From the bottom of the tree, Coulson lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Why do I put up with you, Barton?”

“Probably because of the sexual favors,” Tony says casually as he strides into the room. It’s the highest-ceilinged of all of the rooms in the residential part of Stark Tower, and they’ve already put up a sickening amount of garland. Clint looks down with a smirk as Tony looks up at the tree and does a double take.

“How’s the decora -- What the hell, who let Barton up there? Does someone have delusions of grandeur now to think they’re an angel? I thought you had a handle on this guy, Coulson. First there’s the Cupid thing, and now this.”

"I am not weaponless up here, Stark," Clint scowls, picking an oversized ornament from a branch. "You know I never miss."

"Whoa, stand down," Tony yells up to him, holding out both hands. "Someone's going to end up on the naughty list. And not the good one, either. Coal in the stocking, Santa watching you while you're sleeping, no sex, you know the deal…" Clint flips him off and begins to scale down the tree, avoiding the ornaments, lights, and garland that threatens to strangle him. He lands right next to Coulson, who is smirking like he always does when he's said something sassy in reply to Stark. Clint is sad he missed it.

"Sorry?" Clint says, but Coulson just shrugs and Tony crosses his arms petulantly. "What are you doing in here, anyways? I thought Steve had you wrapping presents for orphans or something equally morally rewarding.”

"Bruce and Natasha are making a ton of cookies," Tony says offhandedly, "and it will only end in disaster. I don’t know what they’re thinking. You are invited to join the chaos on grounds that you do not put things in the microwave that are not meant to be there."

Coulson sighs, “What was it this time?”

“Where’s Thor?” Clint says suddenly as Tony opens his mouth.

“Eating the cookies,” Tony says brightly, “seriously, I think he’s actually Santa Claus, he’s eaten like three batches –“

"We'll join you as soon as we finish the tree," Coulson promises.

"What? I want to eat cookies!" Clint protests. "That star is  _perfect_. What else is there to do?"

"Tinsel," Coulson says with a glint in his eye. He points to a gigantic bag of silver tinsel next to the emptied boxes. It sparkles evilly. Clint groans.

"Save me," he says overdramatically to Tony, who is backing away and laughing. "Anything but tinsel. This is  _2012_ , no one uses tinsel anymore." He places a hand on his head like he's going to faint. Coulson eyes him skeptically.

"You look sick. Do you need a visit to medical, Barton?" he says.

"Don't you just love tinsel? I love tinsel, sir," Clint grits out between his teeth as he dives for the bag. Tony cackles as he leaves them to their doom.

"As you should," Coulson shoots back and joins him at the bag. It opens with a poof, sending a few bits of tinsel into the air. Clint moans and looks up.

"Hey, look. Mistletoe," he says with a glint in his eye, pointing upwards to something that looks vaguely plant-like. Clint leans over and grabs Coulson's tie, trailing it between his fingers. He leans forward. To his chagrin, Coulson looks up and away.

"That's holly," he says with a discerning glance. "Do you need to take botany training again as well?"

"Why would Stark hang up  _holly_?" Clint protests, tugging a little on his dark green and red striped tie. "Come on, it's Christmas," he whines.

"Probably because Pepper orders the décor and considers the sexual harassment implications," Coulson replies dryly. Clint sighs.

Coulson reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small sprig of mistletoe.

"But, if you insist," he says, and smiles as he holds the mistletoe over their heads.

Clint grasps his collar and smirks back at him. "Jesus, Phil," he breathes, and leans forward to kiss him breathless.

"Merry Christmas, Clint," Coulson whispers when they pull apart.

"Merry Christmas, sir."


End file.
